Where have you been, Alice?
by decotalin
Summary: After being shut-out of Wonderland for years, Alice finally tries to contact the rabbit, or anyone in Wonderland, really. She wants to get him back, the one she loves more than anything. He's been down there for 4 years thanks to her. She would do anything to get him back, but how much is she willing to give for him?


**Where have you been, Alice?**

Alice wakes shortly after she sees herself falling down the rabbit hole. Or rather, _dreams _seeing herself fall down the rabbit hole. Her room is very dark and cold, freezing even. It's no difference to her though. She's numb again, as always, after having seen him in her dreams. She craves him like any street drug she's tried, but one again, she'll never form the habit anew. Not with her parents watching like hawks, teachers and peers keeping an eye on her from afar. If they knew how hard it was to feel something anymore, they'd probably react to her 'irrational' decisions better.

She steps into her bathroom and checks the time. Her father's wristwatch reads 4:54 am. "Huh," Alice mumbles. That's unusual. She usually wakes up around 12, give or take an hour. She can already hear her father getting ready for work in the room nest to hers, while Mrs. Liddell, Alice's step-mother, makes some coffee before returning to bed for a few more hours. Alice likes Clara, but in the way a child likes a puppy. Alice doesn't see her as an adult, nor does she respect any of the rules she gives Alice.

_Well, at least it's not unfair to her. I treat everybody like that, _Alice thinks. She puts her clothes on, the ratty ones she wore down under and grabs her wallet and purse. She stalks in to the kitchen and garbs an apple; a cup of coffee and her lucky gloves from the drawer by the stove. "Why are these here?" Clara scolded her one day. "That's where I hide them." Alice replied. Clara took it as a notion of trust- Alice didn't care if Clara knew where she put them, as long as they didn't go missing. She'd made it in to Wonderland on several occasions thanks to those gloves, and she wasn't about to lose them now.

Heading out the door, her father whispered, "Goodbye, Alice," and opened the door for her. He had known about her leaving in the mornings for quite some time now, despite her having 'difficulties making rational decisions' or like most of the psychologists like to say, her 'poor impulse control'. Alice didn't understand why, but she wasn't going to object. She walked out, practically reaching for the cold, hoping for it to press into her side like he would when it was cold. No such luck. She made her way through the cobble streets of Watford, the bite of the cold delicious against her skin.

When she sees Cassiobury Park coming in to view, she almost can't stop herself from running towards it. Eventually, she gives in. She sprints towards the small rabbit hole and sits down beside it. Half her coffee sloshed out of her cup from the run, but she sips at the rest anyway. It's still dark, but the sun is probably rising in Wonderland right now. She hopes the rabbit will let her in. _Please, _she thinks, _please let me in. _If she can't get in today, she will have to go home. Put on a dress suitable for a baby shower. Clara's. So the dress will have to extravagant, baby pink and heavy. She doesn't want that.

Alice hears a rustling beside her and she smiles, by accident. She doesn't usually allow herself to get her hopes up, mostly because the last time she was in Wonderland was four years ago. She's 17 now. After years of coaxing the rabbit to no result, she had stopped trying to get in. That was when things went sideways; the drugs and the booze and the boys, searching for the one she's left down there, in Wonderland. None of the boys she met compared to him- not by a long margin.

"Alice? Is that _you_?" It wasn't the rabbit, not at all. "Hatter!" Alice called. "Let me in, please. I need to speak to you. And hide," She pleaded. Suddenly she was falling, slowly, and that was all she needed. She felt everything now. The cold on her hands; the blisters on her feet; her lips, cracked and bleeding. She saw the most peculiar things: pianos a candles, the rabbit's favourite wine, the hatters showing machine. She sniffed and the scent of earth filled her nose. She laughed. She hadn't laughed in months. When the floating stopped, she dropped on the ground with a hard _thud_. She saw the little door, not even the size of her palm, and knew the hard part had started.


End file.
